


every part of you

by weatheredlaw



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M, Mild Language, One Shot Collection, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:09:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6586618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Watch out for love (unless it is true, and every part of you says yes, including the toes)."<br/>-- Anne Sexton</p><p>or: judy/nick drabbles, mature flavored</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. wanna be contigo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rules say you have to share the fishbowl. This is why smart bunnies have smart foxes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> drinking, drunkenness, hangovers, and sex. <3

It’s pretty well established around the precinct – Hopps doesn’t drink. Not more than a beer or two, anyway. She keeps sober, lets the rest of them get plastered, and then cleans up after them. Taxis, Zubers, rides – Wilde has a car, old and gassy, but it gets the job done. They ferry everyone around, make sure doors get locked and stairs get climbed –

But Judy Hopps has had a hard week, so no one can blame her when she relinquishes her title of group babysitter to Francine, and orders the fishbowl.

Tiki bar rules say she has to share it with someone. Nick pulls a face.

“That is _disgusting._ ”

“Nick. It’s all alcohol.”

“Yeah,” he says. “The worst kinds. It’s like three flavors of rum, how are you not inhaling fumes right now?”

Judy huffs. “I _can’t_ drink it alone, and I paid the fifteen bucks.”

“ _You paid fifteen dollars for this?_ ” Surprise, surprise, Slick Nick budgets like a fiend. Extra surprise, little Judy Hopps sometimes likes to splurge. They’re trying to reach a compromise. “Carrots, that’s your entire drink fund for the night—”

“Stop being my accountant and _be my boyfriend_ ,” she snaps, pushing the bright pink straw in the bowl/glass/bird bath towards him. “Drink this with me.”

Nick sighs, figures he’s lived long enough anyway, and sucks down horchata rum flavored _bile_ –

“All in the name of love,” Del Gato croons, and takes another shot.

  


* * *

  


Sometimes, being a cop is _hard._ Sometimes it’s _really fucking hard._

Sometimes, weeks like this – they drive you to drink.

Nick finishes more of the fishbowl than Judy does, because partway through, she’s sloshed and not paying attention. Nick’s a passive drinker. He likes to observe and suck on a straw – before he knows it, there’s not much left, so he forces the bowl back in front of her face, and she finishes it off.

Big mistake, but worth the dazed look on her face when she realizes he’s sitting _right next to her._

“Ugh, there you are.”

“Here I am.” Nick can hold his liquor, it’s a skill he’s worked on. Judy has a handful of beers every six weeks.

She’s _loose._

“Listen. Nick, _listen._ ” She pulls him toward her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“No, but, like, _I love you._ ”

And he grins, because he’s not sober enough to write it off as drunk-chatter, and he’s tipsy enough to feel warm inside, still, when she says it, her little paws sliding over his chest and onto his shoulders. She’s limber enough to crawl into his lap, but she doesn’t. Instead, she plants a kiss on his jaw, the kind that makes Nick more than a little hungry for something else, and agrees to let Clawhauser buy her a shot.

“Let me get them,” Nick hears himself say, “and I’ll take one with you.”

  


* * *

  


Which is, of course, a really _bad_ idea. Nick can hold his booze (has he mentioned that to anyone, he’s not a light weight he can handle Judy’s poor taste in alcohol, really he can) – but he’s feeling this side of sick by the time everyone decides they need some food. Something fried and greasy sounds amazing, but the idea of getting a cab and going _home_ , dragging his rabbit into bed and sleeping until noon tomorrow sounds even better.

He settles for eating tortillas, and watching Judy explain which varieties of root vegetables she ordered in her tacos. It’s endearing, and gives him something else to think about, besides the incessant buzzing in his head that keeps telling him he _needs_ to go home.

With her. They need to go home together.

Judy pays for tacos and tortillas (and an enormous bottle of water that Nick insists they buy and then split), and they finally, _finally_ make it home.

It’s by the grace of who and _whatever_ that she agreed to move out of her sticky box and into his apartment. It was never much, but since she brought her stuff and style into it, Nick’s admitted the entire space has greatly improved.

Judy Hopps improves most things, though, just by being within the general vicinity. Nick appreciates that.

“ _Hey._ ” Judy leans against the wall as Nick fumbles with the keys. Her paw twists and untwists the cap of the water bottle over and over. “I had fun.”

“Me too, Carrots.”

“Like, a lot of fun. I never get to drink.” She opens the bottle and misses her mouth spectacularly, spilling water down her shirt.

“For good reasons,” Nick says, kissing her forehead and opening the door. “Let’s get you some meds – _oof!_ ” Nick huffs as Judy turns and presses him against the wall, looking up at him beneath her lashes, teeth worrying her bottom lip. The open bottle dangles in her fingers. “Carrots.”

“Come _on_.” She sets the bottle on the floor and smiles. “You’re not going to tell me that you didn’t think about me naked, like, _one time_ , all night?”

“I thought about you naked six _teen_ times, actually. But we’re both drunk and it’ll be sloppy and not fun. You should wait ‘til morning.”

“Sloppy, probably. Not fun, though?” She pushes a paw under his shirt and shrugs. “Can’t really imagine which parts of you, ah, having your _way_ with me could in any way be, you know. Unpleasant.”

Nick sighs. “You really need to work on the foreplay, sweetheart.”

Her knee presses insistently between his thighs. She makes a soft little noise. “ _Huh._ Doesn’t really seem that way, slick.”

“I love you,” he mutters, and, kisses her all the way back to the bedroom.

  


* * *

  


The nice thing about Nick’s apartment complex is that, really, on any given day of the week, half his neighbors are having really loud sex, too. So it works out great that his girlfriend is _kind_ of a screamer.

All the self-control and maturity and making sure she says the right thing at the right time completely goes out the window once Nick gets her under him.

Or on top of him. Or next to him. Or at a forty-five degree angle from him.

Right now he sort of feels like he’s close to flying off the edge of the earth, so he grabs the headboard as he fucks her, each one of her pleas – “ _More, yes, yes, yes_ —” – punctuated by the sharp, staccato knocks of the wood against the wall.

“Ah, _shit._ Right there, _right_ —” Nick groans, looking down at her and smiling. “S’good? You good?”

“Stop _asking_ and just—”

“Easy, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Judy nods. “I know,” she says, and reaches up to yank him closer, to kiss him and force him deeper. “I always know.”

It’s _that_ – and he would never admit to it, never admit that being _trusted_ and _loved_ is a fucking _kink_ – but holy shit does it do something.

It really, _really_ does something.

Nick groans, burying his nose against her neck as he comes down. Judy sighs, and he knows it’s that soft sound she makes when she doesn’t really expect him to get her off, but knows he will anyway.

“I love you,” she murmurs, after her body stops shaking. “I really do.”

  


* * *

  


In the morning, Nick feels fine – he remembered to actually take an Advole, to chug water before bed. Standing in the bathroom and scrubbing his paws under the faucet, he hears the tell-tale sign of misery, and comes out to find Judy yanking the covers over her ears.

“How’s it hanging, fluff?”

“I _hate you._ ”

“Not the tune you were singing last night.”

She peeks out. “Please leave me here to die?”

“No can do. I’ll make you some breakfast.”

“I might throw up.”

“You won’t,” he assures her, and lets her sleep. Fifteen minutes later, she’s propped up in bed, drinking her third glass of water, and picking at her vegan omelet. “I don’t know how you eat those fake eggs.”

“I don’t know how you eat the _real ones._ ” Nick shrugs before ducking under the covers and sliding between her legs. “ _Nicholas, I am trying to eat—_ ”

“So am I,” he insists. “Don’t drop those eggs in this bed.”

“Then _wait_ until I’m done.”

He pokes his head out. “ _Fine._ ”

Judy sighs, reaching out and giving his ear a quick swipe of her paw. “You’re cute when you pout, you know that?”

“I do. Which is why you’ll _probably_ stop resisting me in three…two…two and a _half_ —”

  


* * *

  


He has to make her another omelet later, but –

(her above him, paws on his shoulders, soft and warm smiles and everything fizzes and pops all over—)

 _Worth it_ , he thinks. _Totally worth it._


	2. (D)compression mode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He sits back up and pulls his shirt over his head. “I facilitated the sex stuff.”
> 
> “You know, when you call it that, it becomes less sexy.”
> 
> (or: Judy and Nick decompress after weeks on different cases.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sexy times. banter. the good stuff. pretty tame.

Their apartment feels like another _planet._ Judy only makes it in on both feet because her neighbors and their kids are coming in from downstairs, and they’re super cheerful and big fans of Judy and really, Officer Hopps, you’re just an inspiration to us all. Judy used to correct people, _it’s Detective now_ , but she’s too exhausted to do anything other than smile and say thank you as she completely misses the key hole for the fifth time in a row.

Sixth time’s a charm once the kids stop asking incredibly intrusive questions about shooting people with guns, and Judy closes the door behind her, leans against it, and takes deep breaths.

“You said you’d be back an hour ago.”

Judy starts, suddenly finding herself wrapped up in Nick’s arms and carried, bodily, to the sofa.

“I said I _wished_ I could be home an hour ago.”

“Well you made it.” He kisses between her ears. “Stay here, I made you a smoothie.”

“I want _dinner._ ”

“We don’t have food for dinner. We have food for smoothies.”

Judy sighs. “You mean brown bananas and frozen strawberries.”

“And some kind of orange Julius packet I found in the pantry.” He shakes the paper at her.

“I think that came with the apartment.”

He sighs, falling onto the couch with her and passing over the pink concoction. “It’s either this or we order take out for the sixth time this week.”

“I’d rather die.”

Nick shrugs. “You might, if that packet’s as old as you say it is.” He takes a sip. “Nah, we’re good.”

Judy stretches, trying to get the straw into her mouth until Nick takes pity on her and puts it between her lips. She hums and closes her eyes, drinking down cold, frozen fruit goodness and watching Nick play with the remote and end up on the weather channel. “Is it going to rain?”

“No. But you can watch a _Storm Chasers_ marathon if you want.” Judy makes a non-committal gesture and Nick turns off the TV. “Fine. We’ll just have to do the other thing I’ve been wanting to do for three weeks.”

She groans. “ _Ugh_ , we’ll do laundry _later_ I told you – _oh._ ” Judy’s head falls back as he buries his snout against her neck, abandoning her smoothie on the coffee table and sighing happily. “That’s fine.”

Nick pulls back. “ _That’s fine?_ It’s been twenty-seven days since I’ve freaking touched you—”

“We have _held hands_ , Nick, we held hands two days ago—”

“And you’re gonna come at me with _that’s fine?_ ”

Judy sits back on her elbows. “Okay, slick. What do you _want_ me to say?”

Nick sputters. “I don’t know! Maybe like, _give it to me_ , or _that’s right baby_ , or, you know. Normal stuff.”

“That’s _not normal stuff._ I _suck_ at that stuff, _stop waggling your eyebrows at me!_ ” She swats his shoulder and pushes herself off the couch. “ _Ugh_ , this is why we take so long to have sex, because you have all these weird fantasies you want from me—”

“Dirty talk isn’t weird, Carrots.”

“And I can’t deliver!”

Nick folds his arms over his chest. “Okay. What do you _want_ to say?”

“I _don’t know._ ” She paces in front of the TV. Nick doesn’t move. “ _Fine_. I guess I want…I want to say that…” Judy stops, looking at him on the couch, letting her arms hang down by her sides. “I want to say that I’ve missed you.”

Nick’s shoulders droop. He looks as tired as she feels.

“I’ve missed you and I _do_ want you to touch me.” She crosses the room to him, reaching out and stroking his jaw. “I want you to kiss me and make me a little crazy and remind me why we work so _well_ that way.”

“The sex way.”

“We were _having a moment_ —” He cuts her off, pulling her onto his lap and kissing her. Judy sighs into his mouth, bringing her paws up behind his head and moaning softly. Nick pulls back, laying her back against the couch again.

“See?” he murmurs, working off her shirt with clever fingers. “Not so hard.”

“Don’t pretend that you planned that.”

“Yeah, but credit where credit is due, right?” He sits back up and pulls his shirt over his head. “I facilitated the sex stuff.”

“You know, when you _call_ it that, it becomes less sexy.”

“Mmm, you won’t be thinking that in about five minutes.”

Judy raises a brow. “You plan on taking that long?”

Nick blinks.

The rest of her clothes come off in record time.

 

 

 

For all their chatter, all their bickering in the before – they are quiet together.

They make a fine fit, pressed close and trading breaths and gentle quips as he holds her to him, paws clasped over her back as she keeps her own gripping his shoulders, lowering and raising herself onto him carefully. There used to be moments of hesitation, even after months together.

But the moments because seconds.

The seconds became glances.

And the glances became something else.

He could stay silent forever, though. Judy, self-admittedly and known to probably half their neighbors, cannot.

“ _Ah!_ That’s—that’s right—”

“I knew you wanted to say it.”

“Shut _up_ —” He puts both paws on her hips now, forces her onto him just a little hard. “ _Oh_ , that’s good, that’s _good_ —”

“Yeah? You feel good?”

“Mmm, uh-huh.” She lets her head loll to the side, rolling against her neck and relaxing her back. “I do, I feel good.” She looks at him. “You feel good?”

“I feel _amazing_ , I feel—” Judy clenches, and he lets out a little moan, gasps against her and mutters, “You’re evil.”

“Why don’t you graduate us from the easy stuff and do this _right?_ ”

“ _See?_ You are _totally_ capable of dirty talk.” He pushes her down, pinning her against the couch and grinning. “We are going to sleep for _hours_ after this.”

“Damn right – _ah!_ ” Judy throws her head back as he rolls his hips, pushing himself deeper inside her. She’s small, she’s always going to be small, so he has to be careful, has to be cautious – but he knows her, knows every part of her now, and there’s nothing he could do to hurt her. Unless she asks for it.

Tonight’s not one of those kinds of nights, though. They’re readjusting, relearning the parts and moving pieces and now she’s a little bit lost. Everything is a soft, steady thrust, and everything in her line of vision jolts along with her. She thinks idly that the couch was a great investment.

They’ve gotten a lot of use out of it.

“Almost,” Nick mutters, “ _almost_ —” He looks at her. “You. You first.”

“Nick, you need to, it’s okay—”

“ _You. First._ ” He closes his eyes, slowing his thrusts and dropping his head onto her shoulder. “I just want to feel that. S’been ages.” He glances at her. “Please.” Judy nods, bringing one paw down to work at her clit as he picks up the pace again. She can feel him, and she knows he can feel her and it doesn’t take much – she’s tuned in, keyed up, and she _loves him_ – for her to come, and for him to tumble after her, shouting her name and holding himself tight against her until he relaxes.

Judy strokes the fur between his ears, kisses the tip of his nose. “Better?”

He yawns. “Much. I think I need you to carry me to bed.”

“Not happening.”

“Then I guess we’re sleeping here.”

Judy groans. “Also not happening.” She pushes him off her and manages to pull him back to their bedroom. “Let’s just shower and go to sleep.”

“How can you prioritize _showers_ over sleeping?”

“I’m not answering that right after we have sex, I’m just not.”

Nick sighs and does as he’s told. It takes another twenty minutes, but Judy towel-dries the top of his head and he cranes his neck happily, shaking the rest of the water off and falling back onto the pillows. “I get it,” he admits.

“Good.” She kisses his nose again. “Go to sleep now.”

“But I’m feeling all energized.”

Judy smirks. “I give you two minutes before you’re passed out.”

Nick stifles a yawn. “Nah, I can…I can stay up.”

“Sure you can.” She strokes his shoulder, pulling the blanket over him.

“Yep. Totally can. Just…give me a minute.”

Judy watches him close his eyes and completely fall asleep, right before she stretches out next to him and does the same.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @ weatheredlaw


End file.
